Confession Room
by aftermidnightmuse
Summary: Kate ponders if there's a way to get everything out in the open without facing any repercussions. Castle finds a way to make that happen. Set in Season 4. One Shot.


Another little one shot I found on my laptop from 2011. I don't have a beta so all mistakes are mine. :)

* * *

Most of her evenings are spent fixating on two of her biggest fears. One is that she doesn't deserve him. The other fear-the one that wakes her up in sweat-covered, sheer panic-is that he didn't mean it. Her therapist keeps insisting those two fears are the same but the latter one, it packs a hell of a punch. She's certain a few of her dreams have involved that fear, a baseball bat and her already damaged heart (in ceramic form, thank you subconscious) being shattered to pieces on the sidewalks of New York City.

Most of his evenings are spent avoiding his two biggest fears. One is that she didn't hear him. The other is that she heard him and the feelings aren't reciprocated. Last night he dreamed that Derrick Storm's ghost broke into the loft and stabbed him in the heart with an ice pick. Logically, he can explain Derrick and the macabre, but he's pretty sure getting stabbed in the heart is a metaphor for something his conscious isn't quite ready to face. He can accept her not remembering but not loving him back? Can't even stomach the thought.

* * *

On some lucky evenings, their minds are occupied with a case—on this particular Friday night, wrapping up one. Scorned lover, crime of passion, a small twist that took them a little longer to identify the killer than planned. Castle follows Kate out of the elevator and back to her desk, taking a quick glance at the clock, 11:47 pm.

As Kate approaches her desk, she reaches to remove her coat from her shoulders but hesitates, rethinking, and sits down in her desk chair with it still on.

"Beckett?"

"Huh?"

"Are we staying here or wrapping—"

"Oh," she interrupts. He raises an eyebrow at her.

"I was just thinking about how many crimes of passion we see."

"Well, love is a many splendored thing…"

"…until someone ends up dead."

"Well, love doesn't always work out as we plan," Castle replies, matter-of-factly.

Beckett doesn't say anything, just sits quietly in her chair, eyes glazing over. After a few long moments, Castle is too curious not to interrupt.

"Kate?"

"I was just thinking about how many of these couples—these crimes of passion—fail to communicate…"

"How so?" Castle asks.

"They lie, they make assumptions, they hide their feelings…until things are so twisted and complicated that all the good is lost."

"Splendored doesn't mean uncomplicated."

"Do you think love always has to be so complicated, Castle?"

"Well, I have two failed marriages so it would be easy to agree that love is always complicated, but I'm hopeful that when you meet the right person—generic 'you'—that true love is easy. Being honest in love is a risk, but I think it's one worth taking."

"You really think it could be that easy?"

"Yes, I do," Castle replies sincerely.

The precinct clock strikes midnight and makes a small sound that captures both of their attention, a welcome break from a discussion that's impossible not to feel personally. Kate's eyes flick across the room and note the dim lights in the hall, the absence of human flurry common to the daytime. The are the only two people on the floor. Something about that acknowledgment changes the mood.

"Do you ever wish the truth was easy? That you could just say what you mean and what you feel and be free from it?"

"All the time."

"Us?" she gestures between the two of them.

"Yes."

"This might sound crazy, but I'm not as scared of my truth as I am of yours."

"You're right, Kate, that does sound crazy."

"Maybe if we…"

"…if we what?"

"Maybe if we could confess our truth without the repercussions, just yet, that we could uncomplicate things."

"So not deal with the truth but confess it?"

"I don't want to ever complicate things so much that all the good is lost."

"I have an idea," Castle says, standing up from his chair and offering Kate his hand. She shrugs out of her coat and accepts his hand, letting him lead. They end up at Interrogation Room 1. Before Kate can make a quizzical look at Castle, he begins to explain, "After midnight, this room becomes a Confession Room. We go in, we confess our truths, and when we're finished, the truths stay inside the room until we're ready to deal it."

"In the dark?"

"Yes, the truth is safer in the dark. You say your truth, I'll say mine, and whenever you're finished, you stand up and leave."

"Can we do that?"

"We can do anything we want, Kate. Do you trust me enough to share your truths?"

"I trust you with more than you know," she responds, squeezing his hand and entering the room. They've both spent so much time interrogating suspects in that space, that they don't need light to find the chairs. Kate sits down as Castle closes the door then follows her inside, sitting in the chair he knows is facing hers.

Neither can tell if minutes or seconds pass—time is elongated in darkness—but finally, they speak at the exact same moment.

"I heard you."

"I meant what I said."

And then time and space stand still except for that tiny room where two people can finally confess their truths. Kate breaks first and everything comes pouring out, freeing her from the internal scars that even a the bullet that struck her wasn't capable of making. He confesses his truths and fears, his failings, and his hopes. Neither are sure how much time has passed but both lay their hearts bare in that Confession Room. With her truth exhausted and nothing else left, Kate stands up and leaves, just as instructed. Castle lets out an audible breath as she leaves the room. In the darkness, no one can see his smile.

* * *

That night in bed, Kate doesn't need to focus on her two biggest fears anymore because, just as Castle had said, truth really could be that easy. She falls asleep and doesn't dream for the first time in ages.

In an apartment across town, Castle glances at his bedside clock and notes the time: 2:47 am. It's hard to sleep when you can't stop smiling. When sleep finally does takes him, he dreams Derrick Storm is chasing he and Kate down 5th Avenue, dressed in a cupid costume, bow and arrow in hand. He wakes up laughing, grateful it wasn't the icepick this time.


End file.
